ving his pipe
to intimate by an emphatic nod that the "court was with the counsel."
Indeed, he felt that there was something judicial in his position, and
assumed a full share of importance on the strength of it.

"There 's the whole case now before you," said Tony, as he
finished,--"what do you say to it?"

"Well, there an't a great deal to say to it, Mr. Tony," said he, slowly.
"If the other chap has got the best kit, by course he has got the best
end of the stick; and you may have an easy conscience about that. If
there's any money or val'able in _his_ bundle, it is just likely there
will be some trace of his name, and where he lives too; so that, turn
out either way, you 're all right."

"So that you advise me to open his pack and see if I can find a clew to
him."

"Well, indeed, I 'd do that much out of cur'osity. At all events, you
'll not get to know about him from the blue hand-kercher with the white
spots."

Tony did not quite approve the counsel; he had his scruples, even in a
good cause, about this investigation, and he walked the deck till
far into the night, pondering over it. He tried to solve the case by
speculating on what the countryman would have done with _his_ pack. "He
'll have doubtless tried to find out where I am to be met with or come
at. He 'll have ransacked my traps, and if so, there will be the less
need of _my_ investigating _his_. _He 's_ sure to trace _me_." This
reasoning satisfied him so perfectly that he lay down at last to sleep
with an easy conscience and so weary a brain that he slept profoundly.
As he awoke, however, he found that Waters had already decided the
point of conscience which had so troubled him, and was now sitting
contemplating the contents of the peasant's bundle.

"There an't so much as a scrap o' writing, Mr. Tony; there an't even a
prayer-book with his name in it,--but there 's a track to him for all
that. I have him!" and he winked with that self-satisfied knowingness
which had so often delighted him in the detection of a splint or a
bone-spavin.

"You have him," repeated Tony. "Well, what of him?"

"He's a jailer, sir,--yes, a jailer. I won't say he 's the chief,--he 's
maybe second or third,--but he 's one of 'em."

"How do you know that?"

"Here's how I found it out;" and he drew forth a blue cloth uniform,
with yellow cuffs and collar, and a yellow seam down the trousers. There
were no buttons on the coat, but both on the sleeve and the collar wer